(I’m about eight months pregnant.)

Barista: “Hi. What can I get for you today?”

Me: “A small mocha, single shot of espresso, please.”

Barista: “Coming right up. So, do you know what you’re having?”

Me: “Umm… a small mocha?”

Barista: “Actually, I meant a boy or a girl.”

Me: “OH! It’s a boy!”

(I work for a kid’s craft company, I have an area in a shopping center with tables and chairs and the kids can come and do a free craft with us. One school holiday, I’m working with a young girl who is about 16 and the kids are coloring in animal masks. There’s a young family with two kids coloring and a mum holding a baby. The mum begins to breastfeed the child and my coworker comes over to me.)

Coworker: *shocked* “She shouldn’t be doing that in here.”

Me: *only just noticing her breastfeeding now because she was very discreet* “She’s just feeding her baby; it’s fine.”

Coworker: “But there are children around here; she should be doing that in private, not in the middle of the shops. We should ask her to stop or leave.”

Me: *shocked at my coworker* “Just leave it. It’s illegal to ask her to leave because she is breastfeeding.”

(Since I was a few years older than her and the lead person for that job — we don’t have supervisors or managers at the center — she left it. I was so shocked to think that my coworker, who I’d worked with a few times already, would want to ask the mom to leave. The mom and her kids came back a few more times that week and the next week, which was a different craft, and she continued to breastfeed whilst her kids did the craft. I’m so happy we could help keep her two older children occupied whilst she fed the baby. I’m sure it can be overwhelming to have to take two kids and a baby out without anyone else to help you.)

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(We have a relation living with us, mainly because he can’t afford to live on his own. Over the past year, it’s become obvious that he’s a spendthrift and always spends money on stupid gimmicky things that he “just has to have.” He also buys a lot of these things as gifts.)

Relation: *handing me a calendar full of half-naked men with kittens* “l just had to get this for you.”

Me: *cringing because I hate this sort of thing* “Thanks, but you didn’t have to. It’s just that I don’t really like having pics of half-naked men around.”

Relation: “But you like kittens.”

(Christmas comes and he gets everyone a s***-load of gimmicky gifts, which includes a calendar for me; I actually hang this one in the kitchen to use. It’s now ten days after Christmas and he comes home from yet another day of shopping.)

Relation: “I got this for you.” *hands me a calendar with cats on it*

Me: “Uh, thanks, but I think I’ve got more than enough calendars.”

Relation: “Yeah, maybe, but I just had to buy it for you; you like cats.”

(He’s probably spent close to $80 on calendars for me alone. He does the same thing for others, too; no wonder he can’t afford a place of his own. And owning one cat does not mean I am obsessed with them.)

My family and I were out to dinner at a restaurant we had never tried before but had heard great things about. A big-name comedian was in town, so naturally, all the surrounding restaurants were packed. In making the reservation, I figured we needed to be at the restaurant at least two hours before the show, and even that would be cutting it close. 

My family thought otherwise and made a reservation for only an hour and a half before the show. We had a tough time finding parking, so we were late to the restaurant and had about an hour to get served and eat. 

I knew we hadn’t left much time to eat, so I ordered water and something quick I could sneak in my purse and eat at the show, while my family all ordered cocktails, steaks, and elaborate dishes, thus leaving no time to eat before we had to leave. They complained the entire time we were there from waiting to be seated, to waiting to get our order taken, to waiting for their drinks and meals, etc. 

We were going to be late to the show, so my family just threw a bunch of cash on the table and left, hoping it was enough to cover the meals with probably no tip, and half of my family hadn’t received any food yet, so they were pretty hangry. 

Not too long after the show started, I took out my food I had wrapped in a napkin and offered it to everyone. They were stubborn enough to refuse, so I happily ate dinner while they all grumbled and shot daggers at me throughout the show. Plan better next time, and this is coming from the member of the family who’s always late.

(I’m about twelve. My mom is taking me, my friend, and my friend’s foster sister to a Girl Scout campout. We get there early to ride horses, but the horses are canceled due to the weather, so my mom decides to take us to a store in the nearby town to get a snack.)

Foster Sister: “I can’t be here.”

Mom: “Why not?”

Foster Sister: “I’m not supposed to see any of my relatives, and one of them lives on this street.”

Mom: “Well… if you see them, don’t look.”

Foster Sister: “Okay.”